Chapter one: Arrival
#4 of Wh40k vs. Furries
Chapter one: Arrival
Landing platform five was at an altitude of almost 10 kilometers. The thin air on the platform required breathing equipment and the temperatures up here rarely reached above minus 40 degrees Celsius. The winds here were so strong that normal people were only allowed on the platform at all with safety ropes. Under normal circumstances, the shields were extended and the platform was at least protected from the winds, but when a landing was imminent, the shields had to be lowered to allow the vehicles to land.
Few pilots outside the order even dared to land on one of these platforms. Most "guests" were directed to the lower platforms, which offered an easier approach and a denser atmosphere and were thus easier to navigate for inexperienced pilots.
Erik had not chosen this high platform for nothing. It was easier to defend. For one thing, the anti-aircraft batteries were not far away, and for another, the special circumstances of this platform would nip an ambush in the bud.
When Erik reached the landing platform he was already awaited by two squads under arms and Ignatius.
"My Yarl."
The greeting, unison from all present thundered across the platform. Even over the howling wind it had been well heard.
Twenty battle brothers, heavily armed and in power armor, presented their bolters. The platform shook under the heavy footsteps. Ignatius stood silently beside Erik and only nodded.
The wolf priest was over 200 years older than Erik. He had truly seen everything there was to see in this galaxy. He had fought every enemy, seen every form of heresy, and seen all the abominations of the warp.
No one else would recognize corruption sooner than he would. Ignatius was considered an absolute hardliner. He had brought the emperor's peace to more heretics than anyone else here.
"Brother Ignatius, there is a joyless service ahead."
Ignatius nodded silently. His hand rested on an power axe locked at his hip.
"If the brothers are indeed corrupted, I will grant them the peace they deserve."
Ignatius' voice sounded strangely distorted through the vox grid of his helmet. The mask that adorned his helmet was modeled after one of the Fenrisian wolves and further amplified his voice into a deep but piercing growl.
"Brother, I will hope that our brethren have not fallen to chaos. I understand that we must not tolerate corruption in any form, but we should first find out how they were corrupted."
"Erik, you are still young. I've seen the corruption. There's no going back on that. And if Caprianus Four has fallen, we will have to purge it. No mercy to the traitors!"
Ignatius placed a heavy hand armored in ceramite and adamantium on Erik's shoulder.
The responsibility on his shoulder weighed heavily, but in some situations the wolf priest's hand weighed even heavier.
"You are right, old friend."
His face was grim. His improved physique enabled him to survive the conditions here, but it still wasn't easy. The oxygen shortage demanded everything from his three lungs. The cold threatened to freeze his limbs. The winds tugged at his robe, luring him into the depths.
Behind him, the elevator opened to reveal the third squad. The Yarl's elite guard.
Five veterans in heavy, tactical dreadnought armor. Armed with assault shields and thunder hammers. As they left the cabin, they bowed the knee to their master. No small feat in that armor.
"My Yarl."
The voices of the five was a rumble reminiscent of an approaching apocalypse. Erik nodded and gestured for them to rise.
"My brothers."
The Terminators' ponderous footsteps thudded past Erik as they took position at the edge of the platform. Their armor was massive, even compared to their brothers in power armor. While their brethren embodied power and speed, the elite guard's armor screamed with brutality. They would still stand and fight when the battle was already lost.
"Where is Ishmael?"
There was definitely anger and impatience in his question as Erik turned to Ignatius.
"He's working on his serum. You know that makes him unresponsive."
Erik took a deep breath and swallowed his anger. The bitter aftertaste of disappointment remained.
"How many times does he have to fail before he finally accepts it. He'll never be able to eradicate the Wulfen. By Russ, one more time and I will personally drag him to the tip of the Fang and teach him some manners there."
Ignatuis' expression under the helmet was inscrutable but even through the distortion of the vox grid Erik could hear his amusement.
"I'd love to see that...him wiping the floor with your ass. You know you're no match for him."
Erik took another deep breath. Ignatius was right. Ishmael was a gifted duelist. Never had a blade touched his skin. Even the best of them, the oldest and most battle-hardened warriors were littered with scars, old and new. All except Ishmael. And it wasn't that he avoided conflict and strife, he caused it. Where Ishmael was, there was trouble. Ishmael had a way of wearing others down. Eventually he would get to his master.
The only reason Erik was Yarl and not Ishmael was that everyone knew Ishmael would have led the Order into a never-ending crusade from which there would be no return.
"Thunderhawk inbound."
Erik was jolted out of his thoughts by the loudspeaker announcement. His brothers were inbound. There were originally 30 brothers sent to finish off the cult. If the squad was crushed, how many were left?
Erik looked up into the steel-blue firmament and searched for the landing craft. He knew the Auspex would lock on to the vehicle long before he could see it.
Behind them, the anti-aircraft guns moved into position and the roar of the large servo motors filled the platform for a moment. Orienting himself to the gun barrels of the batteries, he finally found a dark patch far up in the atmosphere that was rapidly growing in size.
It took a few more seconds for the spot to take shape and the color to change from an unidentifiable gray to the bright blue-gray of the Order.
It was one of theirs. Clearly. As the pilot transitioned into final approach and the guns moved back to their initial positions, Erik could also make out the heraldry on the wings of the hulking bird.
*Yes, this is one of Magnus' Thunderhawks.*
Without the need for a command, the troops moved into position to be able to open fire immediately in case of an attack.
"Attention... Attention... Clear the airfield..."
Boomed from the loudspeakers. Another 20 meters separated the Thunderbird from the platform.
*If they were planning an ambush, now would be the time...*
But it did not come so far, since the pilot set down the Thunderhawk unerringly and amazingly gently on the landing platform.
As the engines shut down Erik could see the pilot put on the breathing apparatus and move away from the cockpit.
"Brothers, no one fires without orders."
Not that it was necessary, Erik was aware of his brothers' discipline.
It took a moment before the hatches unlocked with the tug of escaping compressed air.
Standing on the ramp was the pilot, alone. When he caught sight of Erik, he immediately sank to his knees.
"My Yarl."
Sounded from the vox unit in Erik's ear.
"Rise."
The pilot slowly rose.
"Do I have permission to speak?"
The question was justified; for one thing, in the absence of the great wolf, he was facing his supreme commander. And his bodyguard under arms.
Erik nodded.
"Speak. Report to me."
The pilot released the ramp.
"I am escorting the survivors and two corpses of the third squad of Blood Wolves under Magnus Bloodfang. After they cleared the cult on Caprianus Four and returned victorious... there were... complications."
Erik took a step forward, but stopped when Ignatius still did not remove his hand from his shoulder.
"What complications?"
Ignatius' voice was soft. It was less distorted over the vox, but it had lost none of its sharpness. The pilot looked to the ground.
"The members of the squad have fallen prey to ... a ... corruption."
Ignatius stepped forward, past Erik. His hand closed around the handle of his axe.
"These are serious accusations. Where are the brothers now, why don't they come out and turn themselves in?"
The pilot raised his hands defensively.
"They can't...we had to put them in stasis. Brother Corius of the Third Squad ordered this... before... before he received the Emperor's peace."
Ignatius stopped, his hand still closed around the axe.
"In stasis? Why?"
The pilot stepped aside and bowed deeply in humility.
"See for yourself."
Ignatius stepped past the pilot into the Thunderhawk, followed closely by Erik. Outside, the unlocking of 20 bolters could be heard, and the characteristic whine of energy hammers as they were activated.
Inside the Thunderhawk, all was silent. The entire hold was filled with the 10 stasis pods the pilot had carried. No other crew was on board.
What could be seen through the viewing windows of the capsules was both frightening and repulsive.
"What is that?"
Erik looked over at Ignatius in disbelief. Inside the containers were clearly the members of the third squad... at least their armor... what was inside them, though....
Ignatius shook his head.
"In all my years... I never thought a son of Fenris would ever..."
He reached for his axe, but Erik placed his hand on the wolf priest's forearm.
"We need to know what exactly happened first. Take them to the apothecarium. There we will find out what happened. Have the pilot come with you."
Ignatius hesitated. He knew Erik was no match for him without his power armor, but he was the Yarl. Insubordination, even if it was not always seen quite so strictly in the order, to the Yarl and a direct order that would be tantamount to suicide.
"As you wish, Yarl."
The mismuth in his voice was unmistakable. Erik could understand him, but he also needed to know what exactly had happened, which was the only way to prevent something like this from happening in the future.
Erik left the Thunderhawk. His instructions had already been relayed on the vox network. The brothers on the platform had lowered their weapons and were waiting for further instructions.
"Brothers, return to quarters. The Guard is assembling in the apothecarium. My artificer to my quarters, I need my armor."
With these words, Erik exited the platform, leaving Ignatius with his guard and a handful of servitors.